ugly in itself, both S and R still audible, and B given as the last fulfilment of PVF.  In the next four phrases, from ‘that never’ down to ‘run for,’ the mask is thrown off, and, but for a slight repetition of the F and V, the whole matter turns, almost too obtrusively, on S and R; first S coming to the front, and then R.  In the concluding phrase all these favourite letters, and even the flat A, a timid preference for which is just perceptible, are discarded at a blow and in a bundle; and to make the break more obvious, every word ends with a dental, and all but one with T, for which we have been cautiously prepared since the beginning.  The singular dignity of the first clause, and this hammer-stroke of the last, go far to make the charm of this exquisite sentence.  But it is fair to own that S and R are used a little coarsely.

Here I have put the analysis of the main group alongside the lines; and the more it is looked at, the more interesting it will seem.  But there are further niceties.  In lines two and four, the current S is most delicately varied with Z.  In line three, the current flat A is twice varied with the open A, already suggested in line two, and both times (‘where’ and ‘sacred’) in conjunction with the current R.  In the same line F and V (a harmony in themselves, even when shorn of their comrade P) are admirably contrasted.  And in line four there is a marked subsidiary M, which again was announced in line two.  I stop from weariness, for more might yet be said.

My next example was recently quoted from Shakespeare as an example of the poet’s colour sense.  Now, I do not think literature has anything to do with colour, or poets anyway the better of such a sense; and I instantly attacked this passage, since ‘purple’ was the word that had so pleased the writer of the article, to see if there might not be some literary reason for its use.  It will be seen that I succeeded amply; and I am bound to say I think the passage exceptional in Shakespeare—exceptional, indeed, in literature; but it was not I who chose it.

‘The BaRge she sat iN, like a BURNished throNe
BURNT oN the water: the POOP was BeateN gold,
PURPle the sails and so PUR* Fumèd that     * per
The wiNds were love-sick with them.’ [36]

It may be asked why I have put the F of ‘perfumèd’ in capitals; and I reply, because this change from P to F is the completion of that from B to P, already so adroitly carried out.  Indeed, the whole passage is a monument of curious ingenuity; and it seems scarce worth while to indicate the subsidiary S, L, and W.  In the same article, a second passage from Shakespeare was quoted, once again as an example of his colour sense:

‘A mole cinque-spotted like the crimson drops
I’ the bottom of a cowslip.’ [37a]

It is very curious, very artificial, and not worth while to analyse at length: I leave it to the reader.  But before I turn my back on Shakespeare, I should like to quote a passage, for my own pleasure, and for a very model of every technical art:

But in the wind and tempest of her frown,
                     W. P. V.[37b] F. (st) (ow)
Distinction with a loud and powerful fan,
                     W. P. F. (st) (ow) L.

Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
                     W. P. F. L.
And what hath mass and matter by itself
                     W. F. L. M. A.
Lies rich in virtue and unmingled.’ [38]
                     V. L. M.

From these delicate and choice writers I turned with some curiosity to a player of the big drum—Macaulay.  I had in hand the two-volume edition, and I opened at the beginning of the second volume.  Here was what I read:

‘The violence of revolutions is generally proportioned to the degree of the maladministration which has produced them.  It is therefore not strange that the government of Scotland, having been during many years greatly more corrupt than the government of England, should have fallen with a far heavier ruin.  The movement against the last king of the house of Stuart was in England conservative, in Scotland destructive.  The English complained not of the law, but of the violation of the law.’

This was plain-sailing enough; it was our old friend PVF, floated by the liquids in a body; but as I read on, and turned the page, and still found PVF with his attendant liquids, I confess my mind misgave me utterly.  This could be no trick of Macaulay’s; it must be the nature of the English tongue.  In a kind of despair, I turned half-way through the volume; and coming upon his lordship dealing with General Cannon, and fresh from Claverhouse and Killiecrankie, here, with elucidative spelling, was my reward:

‘Meanwhile the disorders of Kannon’s Kamp went on inKreasing.  He Kalled a Kouncil of war to Konsider what Kourse it would be advisable to taKe.  But as soon as the Kouncil had met, a preliminary Kuestion was raised.  The army was almost eKsKlusively a Highland army.  The recent vKktory had been won eKsKlusively by Highland warriors.  Great chiefs who had brought siKs or Seven hundred fighting men into the field did not think it fair that they should be outvoted by gentlemen from Ireland, and from the Low Kountries, who bore indeed King James’s Kommission, and were Kalled Kolonels and Kaptains, but who were Kolonels without regiments and Kaptains without Kompanies.’

A moment of FV in all this world of K’s!  It was not the English language, then, that was an instrument of one string, but Macaulay that was an incomparable dauber.

It was probably from this barbaric love of repeating the same sound, rather than from any design of clearness, that he acquired his irritating habit of repeating words; I say the one rather than the other, because such a trick of the ear is deeper-seated and more original in man than any logical consideration.  Few writers, indeed, are probably conscious of the length to which they push this melody of letters.  One, writing very diligently, and only concerned about the meaning of his words and the rhythm of his phrases, was struck into amazement by the eager triumph with which he cancelled one expression to substitute another.  Neither changed the sense; both being mono-syllables, neither could affect the scansion; and it was only by looking back on what he had already